What does war do to families? It tales Dads and Mothers away
from home. The children often pray that they will be safe.

Soldiers, sailors, airmen and women, and nurses all had to
leave their homes during the war. I was not one of those but I was
asked by our Mission Board to leave my family. They needed me to
teach in Leonard Theological College in India. That was soon after
Barbara was born. One day I received a phone call from New York,
"Leave home New Year's Eve and get to India as fast as you can."
In war time that wasn't very fast. It took me three and a half
months.

The trip during war is another story. When I got to the
college I found that Stanley Thoburn was in the same fix. He had
to leave his family and come to the college. In short, we decided
to live in the same house. We had a good cook and the gardener
kept us in fresh vegetables.

We not only taught at the college but we had many other
duties. Stanley preached at the English Methodist church. I
played the organ and directed the choir. Then on Sunday nights
after the service we had our evening meal. At the close of the
meal the cook would always bring in a small lemon meringue pie.
"Have some pie," Stanley would say, and he cut the pie in four
pieces and gave me one fourth of the pie. We sat talking. We
usually planned for the next week. Then I said, "Stanley, let's
finish that pie." That was what we did. We got accustomed to
eating the whole pie each Sunday night at the close of our dinner.

Then one night when the cook brought the pie I said to
Stanley, "You know, before the evening is over we will each eat
half of that pie." "Yes, I guess we will," he replied. Then I
suggested, "Why don't you cut that pie into two pieces. You take
half and I will take half." That didn't seem a bad idea so he did
it. While we talked we each ate half a pie.

Two weeks later, when the pie came, Stanley looked at it and
said, "Jimmy, lets not cut it into half but cut it into four
pieces. It just doesn't taste like pie unless it has a point." So
after that he cut the pie in four pieces.

Both of us were eager for news from our families. Mail didn't
come very regularly in war time. Then one day I got a telegram.
"The Kings will arrive in Jabalpur in a few days." Both Mr. and
Mrs. King taught in the college.. They were able to come to India
together because they didn't have any children. It was because
Stanley and I had children we could not bring our families. When
the Kings arrived they not only brought letters from Ruth and the
children but best of all some lovely pictures. My how Barbara had
grown. She was only two months old when I left and now she was
beginning to be a little girl. Both Philip and Betty Ann also had
changed. Of course it was so good to be able to see a new picture
of Ruth. That made all of them seem closer and took away something
of the loneliness I had been feeling.

Things were going along smoothly when Stanley got a telegram
from Bishop Pickett. "I will be coming to Jabalpur and if you want
me to I will preach for you on Sunday. I will be coming from
Nagpur over the mountains on the small train." Sunday arrived and
when the train was due I jumped on my cycle and went to the station
to meet him. There stood the station agent. He said, "The train
has broken down up in the mountains. I expect it around noon." So
I went back at noon. The agent was still there. "Now the
telegraph wires are down and we do not know when the train will
come," he said. I went to the station every two hours that
afternoon and then it came time for the church service. "You will
have to preach, Stanley," I said. He quickly gathered up some
notes and his sermon was really a good one.

Still no bishop when we sat down to eat. Then I said,
"Stanley, that was a wonderful sermon. The theme was so
appropriate." "What do you mean?" he asked. "Your sermon was
God's Wondrous Alternative. You said that when one way in life
seems to be blocked God opens us another excellent way. I liked
that very much." Then I thought I would tease him a little.
"But," I said, "some of the people will think that you put yourself
up as the Bishop's glorious alternative." I had hardly said that
when he reached over and grabbed my arm and said, "Jimmy do you
think that anyone else will think of that?" Stanley is a very
humble person and he would be the last person to claim he was a
glorious alternative to the bishop. I was rather sorry I had put
the idea into his head.

About that time we heard the noise of a horse-drawn taxi
(tonga) stop outside. The bishop had come. He had not had food
all day and he was tired. The cook soon brought a plate of food
for him. While he and Stanley sat at the table talking I carried
his suitcase and other things u to his room. As I was coming down
the stairs I heard the bishop burst out laughing. He had a loud
but wonderful laugh. As I came into the room, Stanley burst forth
saying, "Jimmy, I knew you would tell the Bishop about God's
Wondrous Alternative, so I told him first." Then all of us had a
good laugh.

Stanley and I lived together for a year and a half. Then our
families came to India. Even though he and I had been busy, at
times we were lonely. Right away when they arrived we moved into
another house. I have always been thankful for the good times
Stanley and I had when we lived in the same house.
[by James E. McEldowney, Spring 1997]